


In Another Planet's Sky

by rikrik



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Dimension Travel, Established Relationship, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, No Sex, Non-Human Genitalia, what if abo wasnt the spiritual successor to ds verse - the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-06-14 21:29:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15397860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rikrik/pseuds/rikrik
Summary: Jason wakes up to find something isreallywrong with his penis, and Dick doesn't seem to care that his own testes are missing.Well shit.(Tim is incredulous that this has become his problem.How.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> see endnotes for tag details.

Warm blankets and a warmer mattress lulled Dick’s muscles and bones into deep relaxation. The clock ticked, morning birdsong twittered out the window and into this peace the neighbours’ fire alarm screamed like a dying animal, alerting everyone someone had burnt their breakfast. Dick scowled and counted out the seconds it took for them to turn it off.

Jason grumbled and lurched towards the wall, burying his face in the mattress. The blankets pulled away and exposed Dick’s side to a rush of freezing cold air. _Rude!_ Running an internal diatribe about his partner, Dick tugged his share of blankets back.

The fire alarm cut off mid-beep. Twelve whole seconds. That was _one_ way to wake up.

“They need a new damned toaster,” Jason growled.

“Urrgh,” Dick agreed. He’d been happy in his half-asleep haze. Now his body was waking up and telling him all about the morning aches and pains. He scowled at his arm where Alfred the Cat had scratched him while Damian was pulling the cat out of his arms before dinner the day before.

Why _Dick_ and not _Damian_ had ended up with a scratched-up arm was anyone’s guess.

There was another ache deep in his pelvis that had a very different sort of feeling to it. It was hot, and would undoubtedly be relieved by squirming over to Jason and rolling on top of him with a leer. Hadn’t they had sex last night? There was something sticky around his thighs, so probably. His body just didn’t seem to care.

Dick wriggled his leg side-to-side under the blanket, searching for the towel he should have put down last night. His thigh brushed a large wet spot. _Ew_. He sat upright and looked over the side of the bed. No towel had fallen down _his_ side of the bed.

“What’re you doing?” Jason asked, defensive of his warmth.

“Looking for a towel.”

Jason made a disgruntled noise and draped a hand over his eyes.

“Jayyy,” Dick whined.

“Ugh.”

Dick ran a hand over Jason’s chest, gripped him under the far shoulder, and tugged at him. Gravity and leverage were not on his side, so Jason’s torso didn’t move far. Instead, his thick arm swung out and caught Dick in the neck.

Hard.  
The muscles of Dick’s neck and shoulder spasmed to protect the soft structures beneath. He was knocked back, his head spinning and his mind blank. Air caught in his throat.

“Shit, sorry—” someone squeaked.

Dick caught the arm that had attacked him, pulling it to a dangerous angle as he forced his neck to relax and he leapt atop the large man lying beside him. Wide, pale eyes and swollen pupils looked up at him with pain and a hint of lust.

“What the hell?” Jason asked. His voice warbled.

The scent of sex was thick in the air.

This was Jason, he thought. Why was he acting as though Jason was a threat? He should let go of Jason’s body right now and back off. He should. But if he did that, then Jason could escape, or he could attack. He could throw Dick down beneath him and Dick wouldn’t be able to stop him. He was hyper-aware of the bulk Jason had over him.

 _“You_ elbowed me!” Dick said to buy time.

“Get the hell off me!” Jason growled. He couldn’t buck, not in the position Dick had him with his body working against him, but every muscle beneath Dick was tense and wanting to fight back. To lash out at him again.

_Smack!_

Jason went limp. His eyes met Dick’s and stayed there not in challenge, but in confusion. One side of his pale face was turning pink and Dick’s hand was hovering above his scarred chest. Dick’s hand had done that.

Dick had done that. He reared back, but didn’t get off Jason’s legs.

“Dick?” Jason breathed.

Dick stared at the wall. What the hell had he been thinking? This was Jason. Jason was fine. Jason was safe. “Yeah?”

“I think there’s something wrong. With me.”

“With _you?_ ” Dick asked. His chest heaved, and the air came out half-gasp, half-hysterical giggle. Jason hadn’t just _slapped_ his partner.

“Yes. Dickie-bird. Look at me.”

Dick breathed in a fortifying breath looked down. The right side of Jason’s face was blooming pink. His eyes were direct and serious.

“There’s something up with us, and I think something’s happened to my… penis. Might be related.”

Dick looked down, and seeing his own thighs in the way, shuffled backwards. Jason scooted up to the head of the bed, leaving himself open to inspection. At the base of his erect penis it looked like two tennis balls had appeared under the skin.

“Wha—” Dick tried to say, but spit dribbled down his chin. He swallowed with a shake of his head. “What the fuck?” He reached out to touch the changed shape.

Jason’s hand knocked him away. “Don’t,” he said, strangled, and wrapped his fingers with Dick’s. “Dick. I think we’ve been sex-pollened. Or something worse. It’s probably a bad idea.”

The pink of cheek looked like a blush of arousal, and it went straight to Dick’s groin. He swallowed “I don’t see a problem,” he whispered.

“Fuck,” Jason groaned. The sound was strangled. He looked up to the ceiling.

Dick pounced. His fingers couldn’t encircle the new flesh. It was warm. It felt… normal, firm and slightly squishy, like any other part of Jason.

Jason’s leg moved, a slow slide against Dick’s side, and then a blow hit him, a foot in the gut. The bed whined. His fingers slipped away from hot, red flesh and he toppled off the bed and hitting the floor in a heap. For a moment, he lay stunned and breathing in the polished floorboards.

Then, like static electricity raising his hairs, awareness of what had happened sank in. He’d been assaulted by his partner. Fuck, he’d just been making sure that Jason was alright! They were both aroused anyway, what was his problem?

Anger rippled over him. He got to his feet.

Jason stood across the room. He’d gotten off the bed and was now pressed against the opposite wall. His eyes flickered down to Dick’s dick and up to his face. His mouth parted like he wanted to speak but could not find the words.

Dick wrapped his hand around his shaft. The sensation felt new, probably because of the situation, but he suddenly knew that his testes weren't where he’d left them. Instead of an unbroken, sensitive sac there was a warm, wet seam which his finger dipped into.

Then he slid his whole hand down underneath, sucked by an oily wetness and closed his eyes with a groan. A squelch accompanied his movement as air, moisture and sensitive skin rippled against each other in a new sensation. He shuddered.

With a gasp, he pulled his now soaking hand away. He was tempted to rub his cock down with it, but for the moment he was too overstimulated. Despite the way his nerves were buzzing, he was flaccid. He sat down on the edge of the bed, the mattress sunk beneath him and going dark underneath his hand as he put it down.

The tapping of a finger against glass brought him back to Jason, who was leaning over the bedside table and tapping a code against the screen of his phone. “Nightwing compromised—”

Dick launched himself across the bed and grabbed Jason’s wrist, but not before he could add “backup requested” to his message. Jason slipped out of his grip in a move that had been trained into them both as children. His wrist gleamed oily, turning freckles and hairs shiny.

Jason’s nostrils flared.

“You’re acting weird,” Dick hissed. “Call them off!”

“You’re acting _terrifying_ ,” Jason snapped. It came out strangled and he didn’t move to fight back. His nostrils still flared. Dick watched, entranced. Jason’s eyes were blown out enormously.

It make him look ridiculously gorgeous.

He raised the wrist to his nose with one hand and reached out for Dick’s with the other. Jason’s hand hovered next to his. His shoulders hunched, and his eyes flickered back and forth, requesting permission to touch.

Dick placed his hand in Jason’s, and Jason brought it to his face, breathed it in, then wiped it over the side of his cheek. Hair brushed against Dick’s fingers. Dick curled his pinky and ring fingers under Jason’s stubbled jaw, the wetness still slicking the way.

And then Jason’s lips were on his, and Dick was pressing him against the wall. With the full length of him there, he could press every part of him against the other man. Their cocks brushed, and Dick realised that he was erect too.

Something was wrong though.

He leaned back. Jason’s brows were creased, and there was a smell to him that wasn’t _just_ arousal. There was another emotion there that he’d never put a scent to before. _Fear_.

“It’s alright,” he cooed, running hands down the chest that was hitching before him. “It’s alright, it’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Jason choked. “We’re fucking—gods, this is either the weirdest sex pollen ever or an alternate universe or something. And you need to get off me or I need to leave.”

Dick laughed, and toppled back onto the bed, splaying his legs. “Leave this. C’mon babe.”

For a long moment, Jason resisted. He closed his eyes and breathed through his mouth. Dick knew he wasn’t going to move because his weight was solid on his heels. He’d need something more to come closer. He needed to stop worrying.

Dick tried to put his thoughts together, collect them up and give Jason the reason (the verbal push) he needed to come closer. His thighs flopped against the messy bedsheets.

“So if we _are_ in a parallel universe, why not enjoy the sights?”

“Because apparently we’re sex fiends who can’t control ourselves!” Jason hissed — and there it was again, the fear stench.

“Then why are you _trying?”_ Dick whined, wriggling back to Jason on his heels and hands. “What happens in the alternate universe stays there, right?”

He nuzzled at Jason’s cheek again. It gave him a sense of safety and togetherness that he needed scratching an itch that Dick hadn’t even realised was there. Jason’s mouth parted, and a rumbling sigh that sounded almost like a purr wafted out of his mouth. Dick glanced up at his partner’s face.

Jason’s brow had softened and his jaw had relaxed.


	2. Why is this my problem?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim would love to know why the hell this is all his problem.
> 
> On second thoughts, he probably doesn't want to know at all.

Tim hit Jason and Dick’s window. The reinforced glass turned what _should_ have been a dramatic entry into an embarrassment as instead of shattering and tinkling the window rebuffed him with an epic thud of body-against-solid-object. The force repelled (fucking physics) back into the terrifying open space beside the house which made his heart leap into his throat as he scrambled to grab onto the retreating window ledge.

He caught it.

Fuck, Tim thought. Thank God for the for the extra grip his gloves gave him. And why the _hell_ hadn’t Jason or Dick told him they had new windows? They were in trouble. _So much trouble_ , when Tim got them out of this trouble. Tim’s locater told him that phone Jason had used was right inside the bedroom, just meters from him and if they died because Tim hadn’t been able to get to them, then that would just suck.

There was no sign that anyone had noticed his arrival. _Nightwing compromised_. What the hell had happened, why was Dick acting as Nightwing at all? He was going into heat today. He’d been overbearing last night at dinner, trying to mother everyone, making eyes at Jason, and he’d tried to start about five arguments with Bruce. Even Bruce knew better than to argue with Dick when he was bordering heat and had given him several _we’re talking about this later_ looks.

So, something had gone wrong with the heat. Defusing Nightwing was never fun. Trying to subdue heated up omegas was never fun. Tim should have called for his own backup.  
Maybe Jason could help? Ha. An Alpha crossing their Omega in heat? Jason wouldn't cross Dick right now. Jason didn’t destroy him for interrupting whatever this was, he'd be lucky.

Tim pulled a small disk out of his suit and set it against the window, then activated it with a touch. It sent a powerful shock through the glass, which shattered. Then he launched himself through the window, through the curtains, into a scent that set his sinuses afire.

Arousal and fear, like milk gone sour.

Dick and Jason were both naked. Dick had Jason against the wall, hand half in his mouth and half grabbing him around the chin, cooing. Jason’s eyes were screwed shut and he was whining. The fear scent was Jason's.

It stung Tim's eyes and the back of his throat. For a moment all he could think of was fear-gassed omegas. It had smelled like this.  
But no, he wasn't on patrol, these weren't strangers. This was Dick and Jason. What the hell had happened? Where had the two’s heat plan gone? Did they forget to make one? What the _hell._ They were more responsible than this! They were adults!

The first priority was stopping the two from tying. Tim's belt was kitted out for that, and neither man was paying attention to him. He took a patch from his belt and tiptoed over to the pair. The same instincts that drove Dick to desire Jason would drive him to attack Tim -- and hormone clouded as he was, Jason would do the same.

Tim ignored whatever Dick was doing and whispering to Jason. He transferred the patch to Jason's shoulder and froze. Dick rubbed his head against Jason's chest, ignorant. Jason looked at him. Their eyes met. Jason's eyelids and brows were tense. Tim couldn't move.

The bloodflow to Jason's knot would be reduced almost immediately, but the heat-caused arousal would take longer. This was his brother, an Alpha who was territorial about the very Robin suit that Tim was wearing. This was such a bad idea.

Dick turned his head, and finally noticed Tim's proximity. His eyes were those of a predator. Violent and excited, but disorientated and crazed and not knowing friend from foe. Tim stepped back. Dick pulled Jason half-behind him and gave a growl.

“Tim?” Jason asked. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Dick’s in heat.”

The sound of his voice woke _Dick_ from his daze. He launched himself forward with bloodlust on his face. Dick Grayson had left the building.

Tim bounced away — he could _not_ afford to grapple with Dick. He had a uniform full of easy handholds while in sweat and slick covered Dick, impossible to grab.

Dick overbalanced enough to slow himself and he flailed, bringing his hands up in fists near his face. Making a grab for any of the tools in his uniform would leave Tim open. He took a chance dart towards the window as Dick lurched forward.

The omega’s feet slipped in a puddle of slick, sending a milky trail across the room as he tumbled to the ground. Tim sent a pellet of expanding foam after him, and Dick’s legs were firmly shackled together. He fell to the ground, staring stunned at the ceiling.

A snort of laughter burst out of Tim. The great Nightwing, defeated by a puddle of goo. He slapped a hand over his mouth.

Jason moved, and Tim flinched back, but there was nothing violent in his movement. He stumbled over, holding himself steady against the wall and squinted down at Dick. He looked coherent, but confused. That was good. Jason’s control had always been spectacular. Tim let himself relax.

“Dick?” Jason asked. “What the hell was that?”

Dick moaned in frustration and reached down to—

Tim averted his eyes. It was enough to know Jason had thrown off the heat pheromones. He darted past Jason, pushing the older man aside as he escaped into the hall.

In the hall, he pulled open Jason and Dick’s linen cupboard. It was full of piles of colourful bedclothes, towels, and — was that underwear? Everything smelled clean enough, but what he was looking for wasn't immediately obvious. Tim rifled through the sheets. In between a red one and a blue one he found a light blue tangle of fabric and straps that was just what he needed.

Here it was: an omega-style restraint designed to contain a heated-up Omega without hurting them. This one was Dick’s, kept for emergencies. Someone had put an iron-on Nightwing symbol on the front.

Tim hesitated before going back to join Jason. Maybe Jason had worked everything out? Maybe—no, Jason was still acting like he’d been hit in the head. The likelihood of this being Tim’s problem was still really high.

Back in the bedroom, the return of the sour-milk fear smell hit him like a slap to the face. For a moment he struggled to stay in the hear-and-now. This was Dick’s heat, and Dick was safe with him and Jason. This wasn't something cooked up by Scarecrow or sex traffickers.  
Jason had Dick's wrists in his hands and was struggling to keep ahold of him. Dick was twisting in his grip.

“I have it!” Tim held up the omegajacket.

Jason looked up. Dick’s wrists slipped out of his grip. The expression on Jason’s face was like Tim had grown a second head.

Tim threw the jacket at him. “C’mon.”

Jason looked like he thought the blue fabric was about to bite him. He looked back to Tim. “Are you nuts? This is a straightjacket! He’s not _crazy_.”

"I'm not!" Dick objected.

“ _Look at him!”_ Tim hissed. Dick had one hand at his groin and he seemed to have scratched a bloody line across his penis. He was pulling on Jason’s hand. How long did they have until the patch wore off anyway?

“Look, if you can’t handle it wait outside and I’ll deal with him!”

“No!” Jason blurted. “I’m not leaving you alone with him!”

 _You think I’d take advantage of him?_ Tim didn't voice the thought, but the accusation made his blood boil. Jason was being a stupid hormonal Alpha who was hovering possessively over his mate like he was a possession, terrified of anyone touching what was his.

“What the fuck?”

“I—” Jason cut himself off and struggled, breathing in deep gasps as he let Dick do what he wanted with his hand. He looked lost. Tim slammed the lid down on his anger.

“What are your symptoms? Any sign of fear toxin?”

Jason yanked his hand away from Dick. “No! I was just really fucking aroused and— I couldn’t say no. Why couldn’t I say no?”

“Don’t want you to,” Dick answered, and leaned back into Jason. Jason shoved him off.

“Yeah, why the hell weren’t you prepared?” Tim exploded. The two of them could have— god, this event was going to be scar itself into his brain when he gave a moment to process it and he wasn’t directly _involved_.

“How the fuck was I supposed to know he’d get sex-pollened?” Jason hissed.

“Oh come off it!” Tim dropped the omegajacket on the floorboards. “You knew what was up last night.”

Jason slammed him into the wall before he finished his sentence.

“No,” Jason’s eyes flashed. “I am not in the mood, and you _don’t_ get to do that to me or anyone else. You don’t fucking blame people for being assaulted, and you don’t get to blame Dick for being drugged.”

There was a forearm across Tim’s throat, pressing against his windpipe. There were a lot of things he wanted to say to that — like why was this his problem? Why the hell had the pair of them _not adequately prepared_? _Why was Jason unable to deal with Dick’s heat?_ But he swallowed down the words because right now they did not need accusations.

Dick was still thrashing on the floor. Jason said he was drugged. They’d have to look into that.

“All right. Fine. Help with the jacket.”

“I’m not putting him in a straightjacket!”

 _For fuck’s sake_. Jason had never been this obnoxious before. Dick had spent more than one heat in the jacket when Jason wasn’t around. He’d _supplied them_ to omegas who struggled below the breadline. It was like Jason had forgotten everything about how they needed to treat Dick right now.

“If he gets out of that foam, he will do his best to fuck you,” Tim explained slowly. “You think he wants that? No. So let’s get him in the jacket till he wears himself out. You can do it yourself. Keep him nice and safe. That good?”

The words seemed to be penetrating Jason’s thick skull, which was good, and he released Tim’s throat.

“Fine,” Jason said, finally seeing the situation for what it was. He scooped up the omegajacket and held it aloft like a text in an unknown language and not a tool he’d used before. “So how do we use this thing?”

Thankfully, it was designed with an uncooperative omega in mind, and they designed this one to account for Dick’s flexibility, strength, and cunning. He used every touch of Jason’s to rub up against the glands at his jaw, with Jason allowed. After they'd got him mostly secured, Tim shooed Jason into the shower as he got to dissolving the foam and wrangling the last bits of he omegajacket until Dick had been turned into a squirmy — but harmless — burrito.

"Fuck," Dick muttered, when he realised that Jason had vanished. He glared at Tim. "I hate you."

Tim laughed. He stood up and leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.

Well shit.

That had been an experience.

He _reeked_ like Dick. Ew. He wiped his hair off his sweaty forehead. The touch of his glove was damp. With horror, Tim realised his gloves were wet with Dick’s slick.

And now it was in his _hair_.

Oh fuck this, fuck this, Jason better have a _damned good explanation for this._

Forget waiting for Jason to finish in the shower, he was going to have a sponge bath in the kitchen sink if that’s what it took.


	3. This Planet's Earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason and Dick reach a conclusion.

Jason closed the bathroom door behind him, and for a moment he could almost believe he was safe. There it was: solid wood between him and the strange world outside.

But the _scent_. Still, it clung to him. He shucked off his clothes and slapped his hands against the fan and light switches. The fan purred to life, and the lights flickered on turning everything blue.

His hand left a sticky trail on the switches. It smelled like Dick’s determined arousal. Jason grimaced, and closed his eyes, and breathed.

Turning around, he turned the shower on. Jason’s fingers knew this movement, two flicks and the water pipes groaned. He backed away the freezing spray, grabbed the soap, and began cleaning his hands under the water as it warmed.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that there was six months' worth of green scum on the shower head he'd cleaned last week.  
This was messed up.

Steam rose from the water, and Jason stepped into the welcoming heat. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine he was home.

Overnight, everything had changed. The world stank, and his nose was sending him as much information as his eyes. His body had betrayed him. Dick had betrayed him.

(That wasn't entirely new, Dick could be a Bruce-worshipping bastard and he’d fought his partner when they were out of their minds before, but. But.)

He slapped his palm into his head. Fuck. A stupid part of his monkey brain was convinced Dick was a threat.

Dick as he knew him wasn’t… but _this_ version of him? Jason didn't know him. He was an unknown.

“We’ll sort this out,” he breathed.

Red Robin had said Dick was compromised. Way to state the obvious _,_ Tim.

Jason slunk down in the shower and put his head in his hands. He closed his eyes and focused on keeping his abdomen moving slow and steady. Slow movements. Count in and out, let the warm, damp air enter the body. Hold it. Let go.

Tim had used a lot of strange words. Heat. Omegajacket. The words in Tim’s own posh-boy accent and frustrated inflection.

Jason's diaphragm shot up into his chest and air battered against his mouth, tearing his lips apart. His abdomen shrank against his spine and stuck there.

A panic response. Great.

 _“I’m safe,”_ he scolded his body.

His abdomen didn’t move.

Go on, Jason told it, and pressed a hand to his belly as if that would coax it into the slow, gentle movement that was best for getting his mind back where he needed it to be.

What kind of hell was this? A world where sexual violence was as much a biological imperative as pissing?

Air hiccuped into his chest and was gone as fast as it came. Jason gave up on his body and bumped his head against the tiled wall. If his body was going to panic, he might as well give it something to freak out about.

So. Tim had herded Dick into the straightjacket in a way that suggested familiarity, and he seemed to think that the whole thing was Jason’s fault on some level. That was crazy. He would _not_ become his father.

Dick was precious and you don’t treat precious things like _that._

So why hadn’t Dick listened? Could he actually be in an universe? That theory. It fit — the changed biology, the unfamiliar vocabulary.

The water spilled hot over his body. He tilted his head and let it run over his cheek. The smooth-flowing water itched, and he drew away.

What the hell now? Itching? Water didn’t itch. He would not listen to this screwed up version of his body.

He put his neck back under the water and scrubbed and the skin beside his mouth and under his jaw. The sensation was intense, like over-stimulation — a bajillion screaming messages in an unknown language. It made bile rise in his throat, but that was fine.

It was fine until it wasn’t, and the hitching of his breath turned into dry heaves. He put himself on his hands and knees and spat bile down the drain.

Exhaustion fell on him like a hot blanket.

He was done here.

He was so done with his body, with this place.

After some minutes, he realised he felt better, like bile had purged the thoughts from his mind or maybe he was too exhausted to ruminate on them anymore.

He made it out of the shower and reached for the towels. They were both green. In Jason’s real house they would have had “Jay” and “Dick” sewn into them in purple lettering, but here instead the one on the left smelled like it was his, and the one on the right smelled like it was Dick’s.

He paused with his hand on the doorknob.

Vertigo swamped him. He couldn't walk into the bedroom. Not naked as he was now, not in a towel, nor even fully dressed.

_It’s just Dick._

_It’s Dick drugged up on some kind of sex pollen who doesn’t understand the meaning of ‘no’._

He wrapped the towel around his waist and opened the door — only to see a pile of clothes on his doorstep.

Tim?

He picked them up and gave them a sniff. Sure enough, there was a fresh, faint whiff of Tim atop the deep-routed scent of _mine_.

He put them on.

* * *

Tim made good on his sponge-bath promise. He stuck his head in the kitchen sink and scrubbed his hair with his fingers, peeled himself out of the outer layer of his gear, and hopped up onto the sink to clean his feet. _Then_ scrubbed his fingers to get rid of any remaining. Invisible. Uh. Stuff.

Maybe one day they’d laugh about this later. Hopefully not, because Tim would combust with embarrassment.

* * *

Smells told a story. On Jason’s clothes, he could smell Dick, Tim, and the tiniest whiff of Stephanie.

He smirked as he entered the kitchen found Tim in bat-underwear at the table, his gear in a bin bag next to him. His hair was wet, the floor was damp, and the smoking gun was the mop bucket in the corner of the sink. Tim tossed an old towel at Jason’s feet.

"Walk on that."

"Pretty sure this is my house, visitor," Jason said.

Tim grinned. "Are you sure about that?" He pushed his seat onto its back legs so he could put his feet on the kitchen table. Jason abandoned the towel and raced to push them away. Tim squeaked and flailed as the chair wobbled, trying to buck him off.

Jason crossed his arms and leaned against the table, feeling satisfied the miscreant had received his punishment.

Tim pulled his chair back onto all four legs and leaned over the table, arms out in front like an imperious cat.

"So. Ah. Are you coming to the cave?” he said with a nervous grin. “It'd be good for ‘Wing. That wasn't normal in there. We’ve gotta check why you guys’ heat went wrong.”

Heat, huh? There was that word again. So heat… like _animals_ went into heat?

Tim’s voice trailed off and his smile wilted. “You did send me a message!" he protested defensively.

"And what do you think happened, genius?" Jason asked. At risk of thinking about things he didn’t want to thick about, he needed to gather more information.

Tim hung his head and shook his clasped hands. "Fear gas, possibly? Or the two of you had an argument and messed up your heat plan. But I'm thinking mild fear gas because you were really out of it. Look--"

“Yeah, Look.” Jason interrupted, as his mind started to investigate the whys and hows again and he was really sick of feeling sick. “This really isn’t your business.”

Tim’s face went blank. “Say again?”

“This is between me and Dick. It’s got nothing to do with you.”

Get out, stop making me speak, stop making me think about it.

“Riight,” Tim drawled out, eyes sharp. “You sure?”

He’d gone from whiny tired teenager to suspicious Robin a blink. It felt Jason feeling like he’d miss-stepped — or perhaps like he was about to.

“Yes.”

The world went dark.

* * *

Jason had been taken.

Tim _took_ him away.

Anger bubbled up in Dick. He wanted to find both of them and tie them in place so he could fuck Jason and strangle Tim.

He wanted—

 _What the fuck_.

His train of thought faltered. The thought was faulty. In fact, the thought of leaving fingermarks on Tim’s neck for defending Jason made him feel slightly ill, and yet still that voice in his mind said _yes_ , _punish him for taking Jason_.

No, his own mind replied with Jason’s voice. The train of thought ground to a halt. He clung to that word, one short little syllable, for the first time in hours it silenced the irrational racing of his mind.

No, and his thoughts stilled.

“Dick, are you with me?” Bruce asked.

The words brought Dick out of his mind and into his body. He was on a couch in the manor, limbs all tied up in a very effective straightjacket. It felt… kind of comforting, for all that it was constricting.

“Yeah, I guess,” he muttered. “What happened?”

“That depends on what you remember.”

Typical Bruce. Dick groaned.

“I—”

He remembered Jason protesting against him, he remembered thinking how silly that was, how he knew Jason better than Jason knew himself, that Jason wanted it.

He wanted to bury his face in his hands, but they were tied behind his back.

“Is Jason okay?”

Bruce’s lips thinned into an expression that looked an awful lot like “no.”

“He doesn’t seem to have any memory of your relationship, heat plan, or Ulysses Agreement.”

That stupid part of him that thought it knew Jason better than Jason himself rushed forward, telling him it was right, that they were in a relationship, that Jason’s protests meant nothing—

But to Dick it was like a voice in his head communicating with him telepathically, not his own thoughts.

This had to be the “siren song” that the Ulysses agreement was supposed to negate. In the legend, Ulysses had told his crew to tie him to a post so he couldn’t follow the sirens to his death. Like the legend, Dick must have made plans for his insanity. Whatever those plans were, though, they’d been wiped from his mind like they’d never existed.

“Fuck,” Dick said. “He’s forgotten me?”

“He’s forgotten your omega traits, at any rate.”

“Mmm,” Dick grunted, because those words were only more confusing babble to his mind. Bruce gave him a sharp look that told him to explain his thoughts.

“I… don’t think I remember either, Bruce. I’ve never heard of omega.”

“You don’t recall arguing with me about Jason last night?”

“Why? Did you say something stupid?” Dick asked suspiciously.

Bruce snorted. “No.”

Dick didn’t believe him. “Why do I have a Ulysses Agreement? And a… heat plan? Am I ill?”

Bruce sighed and put his hand on Dick’s neck. Dick melted into the touch.

“Because your autonomy matters, even when you’re in no state to give it. And it’s supposed to stop situations like this morning.”

Dick felt his eyes sting. “I hurt him.”

“Oh, no. You’re alright.”

Bruce pulled him into his arms, and Dick reflected on what the straightjacket meant. He was crazy and dangerous and they’d had to restrain him. He was supposed to be in control. Now he was doubting his own mind.

There was a kerfuffle outside the door, and then someone who looked Jason burst in with Tim on his heels.

It… was Jason. Dick squinted. He barely recognised him, yet himself Jason hadn't changed. There was no ping of attraction at sight of the curve of Jason’s brow. His lips don’t look kissable. The size of his chest, thighs… there was nothing to it. Jason looked… boring.

He was smiling, but he looked more like a sleazy acquaintance than a lover. He pulled Dick from Bruce and wrapped a hug, and finally something felt right.

He smelled like love. Tension melted from Dick and he sunk into Jason.

“What the hell is going on, Dickie?” Jason whispers. It sounded right.

Confused a lost, just like he was. And there was something natural and right about being asked for direction. Dick’s thoughts clicked into gear, ran over what he’d heard, seen, and felt.

“Universe swap?” Dick asked, because it fits.

Jason nodded. “That’s what I reckon. I’m getting you out of here,” he said, and began untying the straps that imprisoned Dick.

“Jason,” Tim protested behind him.

“Whatever was up with him, it’s passed.”

“ _Whatever?”_ Tim repeated.

“Look, Jason and I are from an alternate universe,” Dick said, feeling more confident as he was able to move. Tim — and even Bruce — listened to him attentively. “These aren’t our bodies, but this isn’t the first time this has happened. We can sort this out, find your Dick and Jason, and get home.”

“Right,” Tim breathed, a troubled look on his face as he tried to process.

Bruce paused, strangling his own reaction with his control. Eventually, he croaked out “Well, I suppose I’m glad the two of you aren’t that careless.”

Jason was smirking. He was probably delighted to see Bruce off-kilter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The requirements of this story got away from me. I'm not up for writing longer stories yet, so I hope that this somewhat satisfies you!
> 
> Since this is finished, I'm happy to accept all comments including crit on it! Say whatever you like. Tell me how it made you feel. Did it meet your expectations -- or did it twist them in strange ways? This fic was still deeply influenced by D/s verse despite my attempt to disentangle it from that...
> 
> I like replying to comments. I'm gonna go make sure that I've responded to all comments. Let me know in your comment if you don't want me to talk to you. (a "shhh" at the end of the comment is fine to tell me not to respond!)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!

**Author's Note:**

> The rape/noncon tag is for sexual assault motivated by heat performed by Dick upon Jason, and then later by Jason. They also fight. The nonhuman genitals are pretty standard abo fare, including knots and what is often referred to as 'intersex omegas' but that label seems inaccurate to me so please bear with me.


End file.
